As everyone looked on, smiling their approval, he kissed her.
The End
The Glacier Creek Series
Book 1: A Hot Montana Summer
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Book 2: The Firefighter’s Slow Burn
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Book 3: Coming soon
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The Firefighter’s Slow Burn
Karen Foley
Book 2 in The Glacier Creek Series
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A loud commotion outside the offices of Adrenaline Adventures made Dylan McCafferty look up from where he studied a topographical map of the mountains surrounding the small town of Glacier Creek, Montana. On the street below, a lime-green Jeep towing a shiny silver Airstream trailer tried to turn into a small side street, but the driver had misjudged the amount of clearance. In a classic rookie move, the driver had attempted to reverse out of the side street but had overcompensated. Now the Jeep and the trailer were jack-knifed at an impossible angle, completely blocking the road. Dylan might not have intervened, except the back end of the trailer was dangerously close to his Range Rover, parked along the curb.
He shot to his feet, drawing the attention of his friend and partner, Jamie Colter, who was talking on the phone with a client. Now he followed the direction of Dylan’s gaze, and cupped his hand over the phone.
“Need any help?” he asked.
“No,” Dylan muttered darkly. “I got this.”
He took the stairs to the first floor two at a time, and burst out onto the sidewalk, where a small crowd of spectators had begun to gather. Glacier Creek was a small town by any standards, but its proximity to Flathead Lake and Glacier National Park made it a popular tourist destination in the summer, swelling the local population. A long, shady greenway divided Main Street into two one-way streets, and a colorful explosion of quaint art galleries, gift shops, restaurants, and local businesses characterized each side of the main road. The roads converged in a small parking area next to the lake, just a few blocks down, where a long, wide pier extended out over the water.
Dylan couldn’t begin to fathom why this driver had decided to bring the Airstream through the congested town center. As he saw the trailer begin to reverse—directly into his Range Rover—he hurriedly pushed his way through the crowd.
“Whoa, whoa!” he shouted, and ran to the passenger side of the Jeep, thumping his hand hard on the window.
The Jeep came to an abrupt stop, and Dylan looked through the glass to see a woman behind the wheel, her expression both alarmed and frustrated.
Dylan yanked the passenger door open. “Take your foot off the gas,” he commanded, “or you’re going to drive this rig right through my vehicle.”
She turned to look at him, and whatever else Dylan had meant to say was completely forgotten as he found himself staring into the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, ringed in lush, black lashes. For one long, endless instant their gazes locked. Her pert, pink mouth had fallen open, and all Dylan could think was how those soft lips might feel beneath his own. The way her attention was riveted on him, Dylan knew she’d felt it too—the electric thrum of attraction passing between them was too strong to ignore.
But then she dragged her gaze from his and craned her neck to look through the open passenger door, and saw the trailer was scant inches from the Range Rover. Dylan was still trying to collect his wits, which had scattered somewhere on the floor near her feet. Jesus, she was more than just pretty—she was like something conjured out of his fantasies, with glossy, black hair cut in short layers that curled up gently at the ends, and made him want to slide his fingers through them. The long fringe of her bangs framed her face so the first thing you noticed were those amazing eyes. No makeup, either, he was sure of it. Just flawless skin, thick lashes, and those decadent lips.
He was a goner.
“Oh, sugar beets!” She thrust the Jeep into drive, but there was nowhere for her to go, wedged as she was by the surrounding cars. Realizing her predicament, she thumped her hand on the steering wheel and threw him an accusing glare, as if he were somehow to blame. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
Her voice had a husky quality to it that Dylan liked. It made him think of dark, velvet nights and hot, unhurried sex. He gave her his slow, sexy smile, the one that never failed to make the ladies go a little boneless.
“What do I get if I help you out?” he asked suggestively. “I think a kiss would be fair payment.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips rounded in an “oh” of surprise, before they clamped tightly shut and her brows drew together in a disapproving frown.